The global pornography crisis can no longer remain hidden and unconfronted. Now, Ireland is set to criminalise violent pornography, and it is out in the open: paired with skyrocketing domestic abuse reports and rampant online misogyny. Parental fear of graphic video games has been replaced by the dark horse that they’ve chosen to ignore. Minister for Justice, Jim O’Callaghan, has declared that enough is enough. This legislative action, however, should be the foundation to a widespread sex education renewal across the country.
I remember boys in my class at school complaining that their war games on PlayStation were confiscated from them because they were getting “rowdy”. I remember them sharing videos of naked women at lunch merely days later, jeering and mimicking sounds us girls were not yet accustomed to. This behaviour was never squashed; we were too shy and squeamish to report the content our male peers relished in. But when we fail to confront one of the primary effects of misogyny due to discomfort and awkwardness, it festers, enabling boys to carry their learned behaviour into adulthood. This attitude must change.
Pornography can be simply described as material that depicts nudity or acts of a sexual nature. In reality, pornography has never been this simple, and therefore it cannot be tamed solely under legislation. It is more than an indulgence, it can be like a drug, and any addiction can be violent. We treat drug addictions with rehabilitation and awareness campaigns, not as crimes; the attitude towards pornography should follow suit. Jim O’Callaghan has confronted the Cabinet in recent days with major concerns regarding the effects of violent pornography on viewers, calling on a complete ban on violent pornography including depictions of necrophilia and bestiality. He said, “this material is having a harmful impact, particularly on children and young people, and is distorting healthy sexual development”. A study conducted by Women’s Aid shows that 74% of adults agree that porn undermines healthy sexual development in youths. So why has this conversation taken so long to gain legislative attention?
The world has only recently come to terms with an unsettling truth: there is a gap between what we teach boys in real life and what they watch on their screens at night. We may teach boys about the importance of consent, but when they go home to cast their eyes upon rape received with pleasure, earlier advice becomes another discarded scolding. Despite an generally favorable reaction to O’Callaghan’s motion to ban violent pornography in Ireland, the converation seems to ignore the existing normalisation of sexual violence. We cannot successfully rid the online world of sexual violence when it still exists in every corner of our real world. 81% of 18-25 year olds believe that pornography encourages young men to seek rough or violent sex. Almost every sexually active woman I know has a story about degrading kinks being pushed on her. The damage by porn has been done and cannot be reversed, should the steps to put an end to this violence really start online instead of in our classrooms?
Violent pornography is a guilty pleasure without guilt. Young men are already hooked on extreme content. Removing access to it does not remove the desire for it, like any addiction. Banning recreational drugs does not prevent people from sourcing them, using them, becoming addicted to them and peer pressuring others to indulge. If criminalised, violent pornography will become a sneaky thrill rather than a right of passage for pubescent boys. The problem remains, just changes. Banning violent porn is a positive step, but it’s a cop-out from the broader sociological issue — violent pornography is a product; why is there a demand? Why do boys fantasise about torture, degradation and assault?
Legislation does not negate lust. It is attitudes towards women in everyday life which fuel violent fantasies and drive the desire for violent pornography. Pornography is a byproduct of sexism, and sexism keeps the industry afloat. By way of illustration, outdated notions regarding modesty and “high value women” have recently resurfaced, creating the allusion that sex is a man’s game.
Back in school days, when boys would make sexual innuendos which my girl friends could not comprehend, we were seen as docile and cute. When girls began to mimic flirtatious banter, we were not greeted with the expected “legend” or “charmer”, but ambushed with beratements like “slag” and “easy”, shamed for experimenting the same way they did. Boys know that the degrading content they consume online is harmful because they don’t want girls to replicate that same “sensuality” in real life. Jim O’Callaghan says that porn “contributes to perpetuating misogynistic attitudes”. This is undeniably true, but when these misogynistic attitudes are systemically supported from childhood, from the schoolyard, can we blame porn as the sole perpetuator, or is it really the patriarchal system that upholds it?
Confrontation of the crisis should precede criminalisation. Sexual exploitation will not disappear following the introduction of a violent pornography ban. There is always someone who will profit off of violence against women. Though this measure is a productive step in the right direction, its power resides primarily in the message it promotes to a younger male audience rather than the implementation of the ban itself. We need to confront, convince and create, not criminalise. Confront the issue first hand. Convince boys who have already succumbed to violent porn and misogynistic discourse that women are not sexual toys. Create a world where there is no desire to view violent sexual content, where there is no desire to harm women.
